Summary: Welcome to Mammotham, a coastal trading hub where nothing exciting ever happens... Or so it would appear on the surface. Those who have their ear to the ground will hear crazy rumors about the city and what lurks within it. Giants hiding in plain sight; Otherworldly creatures wandering the streets in disguise; Monsters that look like humans and humans that look like monsters; The list goes on. But these are surely just tall tales and the ramblings of madmen. It's ludicrous to think that a woman the size of a building would go unnoticed in such a busy city, and a man-eating sorceress who shrinks her victims would be all over the news. There's no chance any of these stories are true, let alone all of them. Right?
A series of one-shots in a loosely shared setting, each featuring a not-quite-human being living among hundreds of thousands of people who remain none the wiser about their presence. Some have a symbiotic or even benevolent relation with humans, others more of a predatory one. Dare you find out which is which?
Tags will be added as needed. It's my first time writing a story like this, so feedback is appreciated!
Latest chapter: Colossal Statue. A lone statue stands by the harbor, looking out to sea. None alive today know how it got there... None except the 'statue' herself, that is.
Tags this chapter: Giantess, Titan (100 ft. to 500 ft.), Adventure, Gentle, Feet
Categories: Giantess,
Adventure,
Breasts,
Fantasy,
Feet,
Gentle,
Vore Characters: None
Growth: Brobdnignagian (51 ft. to 100 ft.), Giant (31 ft. to 50 ft.), Mini GTS (16-30ft), Titan (101 ft. to 500 ft.)
Shrink: Lilliputian (6 in. to 3 in.), Minikin (3 in. to 1 in.)
Size Roles: F/f, F/m
Warnings: Following story may contain inappropriate material for certain audiences
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 4
Completed: No
Word count: 22080
Read: 7200
Published: January 24 2023
Updated: April 14 2023
1. I: Sewer Creature by Macroscope
2. II: The Hypnotist's Con by Macroscope
3. III: Guardian Angel by Macroscope
4. IV: Colossal Statue by Macroscope
I: Sewer Creature by Macroscope
Author's Notes:
A fairly simple concept to start us off. Hope you enjoy!
I check the bag
one more time to make sure I got everything. A couple heads of broccoli, a
smattering of apples and potatoes, and most importantly, eight pounds of the
cheapest beef I could find.
That should be
enough for one day, at least. I hope so. My wallet’s getting awfully light.
I get off the bus
at the stop nearest to where I’m going. It’s in Lartonby, a part of town better
known as the Pit. It’s called that because it’s truly at rock bottom. Not even
homeless junkies want anything to do with this place, unless they’re really,
really desperate—it’s wet, filthy, smells of decay, and the dilapidated
industrial buildings don’t offer much shelter against the weather, or the
vermin for that matter. All attempts at revitalizing this place have ended in abject
failure.
If somebody were
watching me, they might wonder where I’m taking all that food. Thankfully, nobody
cares about what some weirdo like me is up to. Weirdoes are a dime a dozen in a
city like Mammotham, after all—especially in these parts. You learn to keep
your nose out of other people’s business around here. That’s good, because I
don’t know how I’d explain myself if anybody asked.
I could simply tell
the truth, of course. Nobody would believe it anyway. About four years ago, I
happened to be wandering through here on an errand—story for another day—when I
heard the voice of a girl, sobbing, calling for help. As I mentioned, it’s best
to keep your head down if you know what’s good for you, so I considered simply
pretending like I was deaf. Couldn’t go through with it, though. I might be
cynical, but I’m not heartless.
I soon found out
that the voice was coming from an old overflow basin. It’s basically a big ol’
cylindrical concrete hole in the ground where some of the city’s storm drains
gather. Of course, my first thought was that some unfortunate young lady had
fallen in and was unable to climb back out. And it was a cool, rainy day in
early spring, so she must’ve been in bad shape if that were the case.
I hurried over and
looked in, and that’s when I met Frej’k for the first time. Well, she didn’t
have a name back then, she just made that one up on the spot when I asked her
for it. It doesn’t mean anything, she just liked those sounds. I tried to come
up with an intuitive spelling based on the pronunciation.
So Frej’k is… I’m
not sure if she was always the way she is now, or if she was born human and
then… altered, somehow, but whatever the case, she’s not a normal person by any
stretch. For starters, she was around twenty feet tall when I first met her,
maybe bigger. Badly malnourished at the time, barely clinging to life.
I’ve been trying
to make sure she’s eating well, so she looks much better these days, has more
meat on her bones. Seems she’s still a growing girl, too—Just about doubled in
height (!) over the course of those four years I’ve known her. I think so,
anyway. It’s hard to tell exactly how tall she is since she sits on her
haunches most of the time, plus that basin is usually pretty dark at the hour I
tend to arrive.
Frej’k is
omnivorous, like a human, but she only really cares for the taste of meat. Beef
especially, but any will do. Doesn’t matter if it’s raw, she loves it, and she
detests greens as much as any unruly child. I always make sure to pack plenty
of fruit and veggies since I figure it’s important to balance her diet, plus
it’s a lot cheaper than an all-meat diet. She’s usually hungry enough that
she’ll eat it with a little coaxing. You might think poorly of me, that I only
buy her such low-quality meat—but quantity is much more important to her than
quality, and I really can’t afford to give her both.
I arrive at her basin.
She’s made it into a home, sort of. No roof, she actually likes the rain on her
skin, but there’s little bits and bobs she’s collected that she keeps in little
gaps carved into the wall. It’s mostly toys and other stuff I brought her to
keep her occupied. And there’s a bed made of cardboard and muck over on one
side. Seems gross and cold to me, but she tells me she doesn’t mind: It’s
better than sleeping in the puddle on the floor. The basin’s getting a bit small
for her, but she’s afraid to climb out and risk being seen by people. Probably
for the best.
I see that she’s
squatting low to the ground as per usual. The basin’s so dim at this time in
the evening that most of her body’s hidden in the shade, with only her head and
extremities visible in the sparse moonlight.
“Hiya Dey-veed,”
Frej’k croaks when she meets my eyes, waving clawed fingers in greeting. It’s
David, but speech was never her strong suit.
I was amazed she could
speak at all, really. When I first laid eyes on her I assumed she was a feral
monster. Hair that looked like it’d never been washed or cut; slimy (bare!)
skin with scaly patches here and there, caked in filth; yellow eyes with black
sclerae; and a mouth full of uneven, sharp fangs. Yet at the same time, when I
looked closer, I recognized that… there was still something obviously human
about her. An overgrown, neglected young lady with some odd mutations, one who
badly needed someone to care about her. Call it an instinctive reaction.
In any case, I was
too startled by the sight to run away or scream or do anything except stare. For
a moment, she seemed just as shocked to see me, clearly reluctant to trust a
human. But then she sighed and gave me a pathetic look like a sick puppy, and
weakly crooned once more, “Help. Puh-leez.”
And dare I say,
even my shriveled little heart nearly broke at the sight.
“Hey, good to see
you, Frej’k,” I greet her. I’m not a cheerful sort, but seeing her grin up at
me always makes me smile back. Scary teeth notwithstanding.
She gives me a
look that asks, ‘Did you bring it?’ I raise the bag at her: I always do. It’s
her only meal every day, so of course it’s important to her. I take out some of
the broccoli, and she pouts at the sight—it’s as adorable as a forty-ish-foot-tall
unwashed sewer monster could possibly look. Nevertheless, she gobbles it up
without complaint when I toss it at her. I throw a pound of meat down after it
as reward, and she eagerly catches it in her mouth right away. It’s gone in a
matter of seconds. Seems she gets hungrier each day… Well, that makes sense,
she’s a big girl. And still getting bigger…
That day four
years ago, we got to talking about where she came from and how she’d wound up…
like that. Earliest thing she remembered was running away from humans chasing
her through the streets, people whom she knew wanted to capture and hurt her,
even if she couldn’t recall why. She lost her pursuers by escaping down a
manhole and found herself in the city’s sewers. It was dark and unpleasant, she
told me, even for her. But at least it was safe, and she got used to it.
She stayed there
for weeks, emerging in the dead of night to prowl the less-ventured streets
of the city for anything she could eat. I remember reading some yellow-press
headlines at that time about a “monster from the sewers” scaring the bejeezus
out of various folks, but all they had to show for their harrowing experience were
blurry photos and hysterical witness accounts. Most people dismissed it as just
a lurid tale made up by some sketchy journalist, or perhaps just a particularly
large and adventurous alligator.
One night she had
a too-close encounter with a larger group of people, I suspect a gang of some
kind, and they chose ‘fight’ over ‘flight.’ She managed to shake them by breaking
open one of the city’s larger storm drains and crawling inside, but not without
injuring one of her legs in the process. She had dragged herself through the
tunnels and wound up in the basin where I found her, unable to climb out with
that wounded leg. Might’ve starved there if it weren’t for me.
Once she’d told me
all that, I figured it was only fair to tell her a little bit about myself in
return. I am a custodian at an office building, a human whose job it is to keep
everything clean and in proper order (a concept largely unfamiliar to her, I
noticed). I once had a wife and a daughter, but now I live by myself…
Managed to earn her
trust enough to make her believe me when I told her I’d be right back with food
for her. I considered calling somebody, anybody—the police, a hospital?—but
she’d begged me not to tell anyone about her, and I didn’t have the heart to
break that trust. She seemed to have a good reason to stay hidden if her story
was true, anyway.
So, as promised, I
came back with food, and I did so again the next day, and the day after. We sit
and talk on most days, sometimes play little ‘guess what I’m thinking of’-type
games to pass the time. There’s still a lot we don’t really understand about
each other, but I like to think we get along well, regardless. It has given me
some direction in life that I sorely needed.
I finished feeding
her the potatoes, and once I confirmed that she’d actually eaten it all (she
has been rather fussy in the past, which is surprising considering how she’s
constantly hungry), I gave her the last of the meat. “Fank-you, Dey-veed,” she
murmured afterwards, a pleased look on her face. She was satisfied for now;
good.
It was about six
months after I first met her that I had a terrible realization: If she loved
meat so much, and she’d previously scavenged for food in the city streets,
could she have…? I immediately asked her if she had ever thought about eating humans.
And to my horror, she had nodded without hesitation.
“One time,” she
said. “So hung-ree. Found man, sleep in street. Frej’k come close, man stay
sleep. Small man. Fit in mouf. E-zee food. Tas-tee!”
Judging from the
innocent smile on her face, she didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong
with what she did. I got a cold shiver. How could I have been so naive? Did I
think she was just a harmless pet? Her leg was better—she could climb out of
the basin and start hunting people down any time she wanted. Maybe she already
did! Hell, if she wanted to…
That was my next
question. I had to know. “Did you… ever think about eating me?” I slowly,
quietly asked. It was all I could do to keep from stuttering.
She pondered that
a moment, the innocent look still on her face. Then she shook her head ‘no.’ “Not
food, Dey-veed. Feed Frej’k, talk Frej’k, play Frej’k, ev-ree day. Help
Frej’k.”
I said, “So you won’t
eat me because I’m a friend.”
She nodded eagerly.
“Yes, fuh-rend. Not eat fuh-rend.”
So, yeah… That’s
where we’re at. I don’t just feed her every day because I took a liking to her,
although that’s certainly part of it. The more important part is that I’m
afraid she’ll go out and scavenge again if she goes hungry. I made her promise
not to do that, told her that it’s dangerous, and she agreed because she trusts
me now, but… That trust won’t stop a growling stomach forever. Plus, here’s the
thing: A custodian’s salary isn’t exactly amazing, and as I’ve mentioned, she’s
gotten a lot bigger, as has her appetite. I’ve been trying to carefully convince
her that it’s bad to eat people, ‘friends’ or not, but I’m not sure if she
understands the concept.
God, what am I
gonna do?! She’s not going to live in a concrete hole forever, especially not
if it gets more claustrophobic by the month. Just how big is she going to get?
What if someone finds her while I’m not there? She’ll have to move, preferably
somewhere away from people. But where am I going to take her? She’s grown far
too much to fit back in the tunnel she’d originally come in from, so the only
way out is up, and through the streets. There’s no way I can get her out of the
city without being seen. And even if I could, then what? To a forest, or a
swamp? She doesn’t know how to survive out in the sticks by herself, and I
can’t teach her. I figure I’m going to need help, but who can I ask about
something like this? I’m a loner, I don’t know who to trust—
“Dey-veed?”
Ah!
I jumped. I was
completely lost in thought, standing by the edge of the basin, and hadn’t
noticed that Frej’k had stood up straight. She almost never did that. Her face
was really close to mine all of a sudden, dark eyes staring curiously into
mine. “Dey-veed, you sad?”
“Oh, no, it’s
nothing. Don’t worry about it, darling,” I hastily tried to reassure her. Huh,
when did I start calling her ‘darling’?
She didn’t look
convinced. “Dey-veed… Frej’k touch?”
In these four
years, I hardly ever made direct contact with Frej’k. Partially because, as
much as I liked her, she did reek to high heaven. Even us custodians have our
reservations. But also, I always had it in the back of my head that she ate
humans before, or at least a human. Of course, she’d promised not to hurt me,
and I believe her, plus she could’ve easily grabbed me any time I was nearby if
she really wanted to. I knew that, but your mind isn’t always rational. I feel
fear like anyone else.
The only
exceptions were a couple times when she’d told me she had a bad dream, with
those sad-puppy eyes that made me forget how massive she was. She’d reach her
hand up to me, and I’d lay her long fingers across my lap and tell her that everything’s
okay as I caressed them. It’s a simple and awkward gesture, but if it works, it
works: Calmed her down just fine. Took me some effort to wash the sewer-stink
off me afterwards, but whatever.
So, now she wants
to return the favor and calm me down. I don’t want to say no to such a
thoughtful offer, but I’m so anxious…
"Okay, you can
touch. Gently now,” I say, barely louder than a murmur.
Slowly, as if I
was going to break if she moved too roughly (and in fairness, I really might),
she extends both her hands towards me and wraps her clawed fingers around my
waist. They’re a bit cold and icky, but I can tolerate it.
She lifts me off
my feet. I’m dangling over the hole now. Never was too good with heights. My
heart’s going a mile a minute. I close my eyes for a second.
I feel my body
press up against something. Slick with mucus, but also soft and warm. I open my
eyes and find myself staring into Frej’k’s upper chest. Her hands are pressing
me against her skin, gently stroking my back. I can feel her chin resting
against the top of my head. She begins to quietly hum a tune, lacking in melody
but pleasing all the same.
It’s… nice. I
forget everything for a while.
“It oh-kay,”
Frej’k whispers. “Not sad, Dey-veed. Not scared. Frej’k here.”
We stay like that
for… I don’t know. She eventually pulls me away from her again and places me
back on the edge of the basin, at which point I realize that I’d been dozing
off into a reverie.
Frej’k looks at me
expectantly, her head barely a foot away from me. I take a moment to breathe,
clear my throat. “Thanks, Frej’k,” I finally manage. “I needed that.”
She smiles. I
don’t even flinch when I see her fangs this time, they’re just… part of her, in
a comforting way.
I still have no
idea how I’m going to solve everything. Yet now I feel confident that we’ll
figure something out. It seems impossible, but… I’d also have thought that a
gigantic girl from the sewers was impossible.
I reach out to her
enormous face, rub her cheek with wide motions. She softly croons and leans
into it, seemingly overjoyed that I’m not afraid to touch her anymore. Honestly, once you get used to her appearance, she's cute-- still a bit scary, and rightly so, but cute. Her unconcerned smile makes dealing with the stench more than worth it. Caring
for her has ruled my life these past few years, and I never asked for it… But right
now, I feel so blessed to have met her.
She nudges her
nose into my chest. Screw it, I’m gonna have to wash these clothes and shower
thoroughly anyway. I embrace her as best as I can, wrapping my arms around her
face, and she closes her eyes as she slowly leans forward until her forehead
gently bumps into me. Her long, stringy hair falls around me like a thick
curtain shielding me from the cold world. I’m covered in grime from head to
toe, but I don’t mind.
We’re going to be
okay. And we'll stick together, no matter what.
End Notes:
As mentioned in the summary, this is my first time writing a story like
this, so any feedback or constructive criticism is welcome. Oh, and
you're free to suggest something you'd like to see in future chapters! I
can't guarantee that I'll end up using your idea, but I'll certainly consider it.
In any case, that'll do for this first chapter. Next one will be titled The Hypnotist's Con. See you then!
II: The Hypnotist's Con by Macroscope
Author's Notes:
I personally really like how this one turned out. Looking forward to hearing what you all think!
“Hypnosis therapy,
you say? Never put much stock in that vague mumbo-jumbo, myself, if I’m being
honest,” Richard said to her.
Nellie forced a
smile. She’d had this conversation too many times to count. “It’s not nonsense,
I can tell you that. It’s got a solid scientific foundation. The human brain is
susceptible to suggestion, and if you know just where and how to push somebody,
you can get them to go along with just about anything.”
Richard took a sip
of his coffee. “Mm, if you say so. And you call it therapy? You’re a licensed
therapist then?”
“Well, not as
such,” she admitted. “It’s really more something I picked up as a hobby at
first, and a lot of folks who’ve tried it were really impressed with the result.
I have a money-back guarantee if the customer’s dissatisfied, and no one’s ever
taken it, if that helps.”
“Ah, clever. You
hypnotize them to think they’ve gotten what they wanted. Easy money,” Richard
quipped. She could tell that this was all still a joke to him.
They had met in
the park adjacent to Mammotham U’s campus, where he’d sat down to review his
lecture notes. She had approached him there, asking if she could sit with him,
and he had no reason to say ‘no.’
She had a bit of a
mousey demeanor, small and demure, but Richard thought her appearance was
eye-catching all the same. She wore a long, sleeveless dark green dress, the
hem of which featured angular black patterns. Her shoulders were covered by a
shawl the same color as her dress. She had an elaborate tattoo sleeve on her
left arm, and several leather bracelets adorned with colored beads around her
wrists. She wore her long auburn hair in a thick braid that reached all the way
to her mid-back. What struck him most were her reddish-brown eyes—he couldn’t
place it, but something about them captivated him, though he kept that to
himself. All in all, her looks certainly made her stand out among the other
students of the campus despite the inconspicuous way she carried herself.
She’d noticed him looking
at her and struck up a conversation with him. They exchanged names, he told her
he was in the Mathematics department, she said she was enrolled in the Humanities
and following a program in occult studies (he visibly had to resist the urge to
roll his eyes). It was immediately clear they had very little in common, but
that just meant they had plenty to talk about.
And talk Richard
did. Nellie had mostly just politely listened, occasionally asking a question
here and there to show she was still interested. Eventually she had stood up
and said she was going to get a coffee, and he was welcome to join her. Sure,
why not, he’d thought, and so here they were. They’d broached the topic of
their off-campus lives, and that’s when she’d mentioned that she dabbled in her
own self-styled brand of ‘therapy.’
“Well, I can’t
make you believe anything you don’t want to believe,” Nellie explained. “I just
guide you to a state where believing is seeing, rather than the other way
around. I give suggestions, and if your mind accepts them, you experience it as
if it’s real. That’s the beauty of it, you can experience anything you like,
even things that are… impossible,” she said with a whimsical flourish of her
hand. Richard wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but it did pique his
curiosity just a tad.
He wasn’t willing
to admit that just yet, however. “So that’s all it is, just a play on the
senses,” he said.
“Well, if that’s how
you want to describe it. But your senses are all you have. Even if none of it’s
really true, for a moment, you’ll be completely convinced it is. And that’s
when you enter a world where anything is possible.”
“Not sure that’d
work on me. I’m a man of science, I think I’d be too skeptical to fall for
those mind tricks,” he boasted.
“Oh, I’ve dealt
with your type before,” she replied with a devious smile. “You’d be surprised
how easy it is, provided you’re willing to give it an honest try. It’s a bit
like a magic trick, really—I let you fool yourself. You’ll convince yourself
that you’ve got it all figured out, but the trick is in something else you never
even considered. The smarter you think you are, the sooner I’ll have you right
in the palm of my hand.”
She was taunting
him now, never breaking eye contact as she sipped her coffee. Richard
recognized that, but he took the bait anyway, interested to see where it would
go. “Is that a challenge?”
“Maybe,” she said.
“Tell you what, my schedule’s free right now. If you’ve got time, you can come
with me to my place, and I can give you a demonstration. If you’re not
convinced that it’s working for you, it’s free of charge. How’s that sound?”
“Well, sure, what
the heck.” Even if nothing came of it, he’d have a great anecdote to tell his
friends. What’s the worst that could happen? Normally he wouldn’t go with
somebody he just met like this, but he was confident he’d be just fine.
She took him to her
studio apartment not too far from the college campus. Richard tried to make
some more small talk during the bus ride there, asking her what occult studies
was like.
“The history’s not
nearly as ancient as you’d think,” Nellie said. “It’s so fascinating. For
instance, did you know that just a century ago, there was an underground society
of sorceresses right here in Mammotham? That’s what today’s lecture was about.”
He raised his
eyebrows, nonplussed. “Oh really? And what sort of sorcery did they get up to,
then?”
“Not the fun kind,”
she dryly replied. “They believed all people possess some sort of spiritual
power they called ‘vim,’ which wanes as one grows older. They were also
convinced that they could become something greater than a normal human by absorbing
the vim of others to replenish their own.”
“Feh. The nonsensical
tripe those spiritual types will convince themselves of,” Richard said with a
scoff. “Let me guess, people got hurt because of their bullshit?”
“Worse than hurt,
I’m afraid. Their believed that they could absorb people’s vim by consuming
them alive. Young adults were their preferred targets, since they’d be in their
prime, brimming with vigor. They claimed many victims before they were
discovered,” Nellie recounted.
“Ergh. That’s
disgusting AND horrible. What could be worth that?”
“Oh, well, they
thought it was the secret to being immortal,” she explained. “Eternal youth in
both mind and body, unparalleled beauty and vitality, the ability to bend the
feeble thoughts of ‘mere’ humans to your will… With enough of it, the world’s
at your feet. Or so they believed.”
“All they’d get
from trying to eat people is severe psychological distress, plus a prion
disease,” Richard said with a look of contempt. “And the electric chair, I
hope.”
“Oh, yes. Once
word got out, the police didn’t rest until every last one of the sorceresses was
behind bars, and their crimes were considered plenty heinous enough for the
death penalty. Everything they wrote down and their possessions were destroyed
as well so that nobody could try to repeat what they did. That does make it harder
for scholars like me to study their history, but that’s just the way it is.”
“Hmph. Well, I
think it’s a waste of time and money, studying that vague mystic bullcrap,” Richard
began.
Here comes the inevitable
diatribe, Nellie thought to herself.
“What’s the use of
dredging up those horrible, ass-backwards ideas? Just leave that in the past
where it belongs. It makes me sick to think there’s still people like that out
there doing who-knows-what to others because of their silly religious beliefs.
I’ll be glad when the day finally comes that humanity leaves all that
superstitious shit behind for good!”
Richard was so
caught up in his rant that he didn’t even notice Nellie leaning back, a
contented smirk on her face as she watched him pontificate. She congratulated
herself for picking him out of the crowd, back when she saw him at the park. He
was perfect. Just the guy she had thought he’d be. She looked forward to seeing
the look on his face in just a few minutes…
She made sure to conceal
her giddiness again when she spoke up, breaking him out of his spiel. “This is
our stop,” she announced.
She led him into her
small apartment, which was covered top to bottom with all sorts of trinkets
Richard couldn’t hope to recognize. In one corner stood a contraption that
reminded him of a small distiller from a chemistry lab. What was she trying to
do in here, alchemy? Maybe it was all for show. It did give the place a certain
vibe.
“Shoes off,
please,” Nellie instructed. “Your socks, too. It’s an important part of the
sensory experience.”
Richard shrugged
and did as he was told while Nellie moved to the kitchenette on the far side of
the room and turned on a water boiler. Smack-dab in the middle of the space stood
a very quaint little table of sorts, one that reached barely a foot and a half
off the ground. She returned a moment later with a teapot and sat down
cross-legged on the rug surrounding the table, gesturing for him to do the
same. The rug felt tickly under his bare feet.
“Here, have some
of this tea,” Nellie offered as she poured him a cup. “It’ll help you relax.
Can’t do much if you’re all on edge.”
He reached for the
cup, but then stopped. “Hey, wait a minute, I get it,” he said. “You put
something funny in this cup, didn’t you? Something that’ll make me see pink
elephants. Is that how your ‘hypnosis’ works?”
“A reasonable
concern,” Nellie replied. She remained unflappable. “But I solemnly promise to
you, there aren’t any hallucinogens in this tea. Here, I’ll even have some
myself.” She poured a second cup, paused to cool it with her breath, then
slowly took a sip. “See? You can trust me.”
Well, alright.
Richard wasn’t usually the type to trust someone he just met, but Nellie seemed
harmless. He took a long gulp from the tea. It was quite sweet with a bitter
undercurrent, which he enjoyed.
“Now then, are you
settled in? I’m ready to start when you are,” she told him.
“Sure, lay it on
me.”
“Alright, here
goes. Please look into my eyes. Look closely, and tell me what you see.”
“Well, they’re
pretty, but it’s not nice to fish for compliments like that,” he quipped.
She gave him an
unamused look.
“Alright, sheesh.
Uh, well, they’re a deep red-brown color.”
“Are you sure? Look
even closer.”
Now that he did
take another look… “Huh, I guess they’re more magenta than brown,” he corrected
himself. And quite a vivid shade of magenta, at that. Huh, that’s weird, he
thought, he could’ve sworn… But no, he must’ve seen it wrong. A trick of the
light, perhaps.
“Very good. But
it’s not just the irises I want you to focus on. Stare into my pupils, and tell
me.”
She leaned towards
him to give him a better look. He still had to squint. It struck him that
Nellie hadn’t blinked at all, her maroon eyes boring into his. “I see… my
reflection, I guess.”
“That’s right.
It’s where the word ‘pupil’ comes from, actually. You see yourself as a little
doll in another person’s eyes. I can see you for what you really are, Richard.
And what I see is a very small man.”
“I’m six foot
one,” he retorted. “Not what I’d call small.” He found that he couldn’t break
contact, no matter how hard he tried to look away from those lavender eyes.
“Are you really,
though? From where I’m sitting, you look like you don’t reach five feet. Four,
even,” she told him. “And you’re getting smaller by the second. Why don’t you
try standing up and seeing for yourself if you don’t believe me?”
He wanted to, but
her turquoise gaze had made him dizzy, so he stumbled when he tried to get to
his feet. His world grew fuzzy for a moment as a feeling of vertigo washed over
him. It took him a little while to get his bearings. Once he felt well enough
to try standing up again, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Nellie had told the
truth—he was smaller. He was standing up and she was sitting on the floor, yet his
eyes were almost level with her light blue ones. He felt the rug he was
standing on tickle past his ankles. What on earth…?
“Still convinced
it wouldn’t work on you?” Nellie teased, a pleased look on her face. “I told
you. You’re under my spell now, and you can’t help but believe it when I tell
you that you’re still getting smaller. But you have no reason to worry. After
all, you know that it’s not real, right? No matter what your senses are telling
you.”
Yes, that’s right,
he reminded himself. It’s just hypnosis, just psychological trickery. He only imagined
he’d stood up, perhaps. He was actually still sitting down, and that’s why his
perspective’s off. That must be it.
Another dizzy
spell hit him, so he braced himself against the table—already well above his
hips—and looked up at her. Through his blurry vision, he could just about make
out her bright aquamarine eyes staring down at him.
“You’d better
climb onto the table, before you’re too short to,” Nellie said. “I’d hate for
you to get lost in the carpet.”
He did as she suggested.
The cold wooden surface of the table under his feet felt... real. But it looked
so flimsy before! There was no way it could support his nearly 200 pounds of
weight, it was clearly impossible… He struggled to think of an alternative
explanation for what he was feeling. Maybe she had guided him to stand on some
other wooden surface without him realizing?
“There, that’s
better. I can see you properly again now,” she said. “And look, you’re only about
as tall as your teacup now! How adorable.”
This isn’t real,
Richard reminded himself. He refused to acknowledge that he indeed couldn’t
look over the rim of the cup anymore. He kept his gaze focused on Nellie, who
sent him patronizingly doting looks from quite a ways above him, as if he were
a favorite pet hamster.
“Well, don’t just
stand there. Come over here. Take a little walk across the table,” she said.
He could only do
as he was told. Walking to the other side of the table was a brisk distance. He
passed the teapot in the middle, which appeared the size of a small house to
him now.
Soon he found
himself standing before Nellie’s towering form. How had he described her
before? ‘Mousey?’ ‘Small and demure?’ That seemed like a distant memory. He had
left that world and entered one where he was utterly helpless before her.
He’d never dare
use those adjectives now. He had to stare way, way up past her building-sized
body to see her face. She seemed almost like an enormous statue of a goddess,
overwhelming in both beauty and size. Unmoving, unblinking. Smiling down at him
without caring about him. Her sinister yellow eyes were watching his every move
from on high, her chin resting on her steepled hands.
“There you are,”
she said. “Now tell me, do you still think my hypnosis is just a few cheap
parlor tricks? Can you look up at me from all the way down there and honestly
believe you’re just too smart to fool?”
This was a test,
Richard thought. She’s trying to see if intimidating me will make me abandon
good sense. Well, it won’t work.
“That’s right,” he
yelled up at her. “This is all just an illusion. I’ll admit that it’s an
impressive one, I’d love to figure out how you managed all this, but what
you’re showing me is physically impossible. It can only be smoke and mirrors.”
“I can hear you
just fine, no need to raise your voice,” she chided. “But I’m impressed. I
thought for sure you’d be quivering in fear by now, fully convinced I’m a
terrible giant plotting to do who-knows-what with you. Clearly, I
underestimated your ability to see through my trickery.”
Richard couldn’t
deny himself a victorious smirk. “So you admit defeat? Well, it’s been fun.
What happens now?”
“Actually, I
wanted to put you through one last test first,” she said, and lowered her left
hand to lie flat on the table before him. “Climb on.”
“Alright then, if
you insist,” he mumbled. Stepping onto the palm of a colossal hand felt really
weird. Like standing on massive, warm, firm, slightly oily couch cushions that
smelled vaguely of soap and various other things. He had just a few moments to
get used to that feeling before Nellie raised her hand back up, knocking him
off his feet.
He looked around a
bit. The table seemed quite a ways down from up here, and seeing that the floor
was even farther away made him anxious. The tattoo sleeve on her arm looked
like an enormous mural decorating some oddly-shaped tower, one he was sitting
on top of…
He was so
engrossed with taking it all in that he briefly forgot all about his
circumstances. When he finally looked up, he was met with the sight of Nellie’s
titanic face, so close that it took up his entire field of vision. She was
still giving him that knowing smile, a bit of a smug edge to it. He felt
embarrassed: She must’ve recognized that, for a moment, he really did believe
that he was sitting right in the palm of her hand.
But he couldn’t
let her win just like that. He shook his head a few times to try and
concentrate. Remember, this can’t possibly be real, he reminded himself. It’s
just really strong make-believe. Even if he could feel her skin under his feet,
even if her body heat and her scent permeated the air around him, even if he
could feel the breath from her nose rush past him, it was all just in his
imagination.
“Aww, just look at
you,” she cooed. It was little more than a breathy murmur, but he could hear it
loud and clear, as close as he was to her mouth. Her voice reverberated through
his entire body. “I just wanted to say that you look absolutely precious, sitting
there in the palm of my hand. Even if you don’t believe anything else I’ve told
you today, you better believe that. It’s really a much better size for you than
how you were before. I almost feel tempted to keep you like this, maybe as a
pet… but I’d better not.”
Richard couldn’t
respond. He was preoccupied with staring into her right eye, then into her left,
each of them much bigger than he was, and so close that he could only focus on
them one at a time. Gosh, they were so pretty and, and so alluring! They were
vivid green and bright orange, a warm cream pink color one moment and icy gray
the next, the color of the late afternoon sky and of the stormiest ocean, and
as vast and deep as both… Hazel brown
and crimson red and pure white and vanta black, and all the colors he could
name, and more. He was mesmerized, could sit there all day if she’d let him.
His vision blurred again, but he never broke eye contact. He couldn’t if he
wanted to, and he didn’t want to.
Nellie grinned as
she basked in the feeling of absolute control for a moment. She never felt more
alive than during these moments, when her mark was fully caught in her trap.
But she couldn’t relish it forever. It was time to finish this.
“There’s just one
final step before I break the illusion you’re under. In just a moment, I’m
going to open my mouth, and you will climb inside. In doing so, you will prove
that you have conquered your fear. Right now, your senses are screaming at you
that you are in grave danger. The hairs on your teeny-tiny body are standing on
end, and you can feel your little heart beating in your throat,” she said.
Now that she
mentioned it, he did feel a cold sweat on his forehead. Something wasn’t right
here, his gut told him. Something was very wrong, and he was about to find out
what.
“But you are above
those irrational feelings, aren’t you? You’re a man of science, right? You
can’t trust your primitive instincts. There are only two things you place your
trust in: Your own reasoning, and me. You remain convinced that you’re not in
real danger, and you know that you have no reason to fear me. It’s only
logical. You’d stake your life on it. Isn’t that right?”
Yes, that’s right.
He was safe and sound, there was no reason to believe any different. Whatever
he was feeling was only the result of his senses playing tricks on him, and he
wouldn’t be played for a fool like that. He nodded to her in agreement, and she
beamed gleefully in response.
“Excellent! Are
you ready? Here comes the test.”
She brought her
lips right up to her palm, took a moment to wet them, then slowly parted them,
revealing the darkness they guarded. The tip of her tongue extended over the threshold,
inviting him like a red carpet—one that writhed slightly, and that was drenched
in saliva.
For a moment
Richard faltered, if only out of revulsion rather than anything else. Was he
really going to… do this? But his desire to prove himself won out. This wasn’t
real, anyway. Logic dictated that he wasn’t in any real danger, and he had
nothing to fear from Nellie. Nothing whatsoever. He wasn’t going to chicken out
now—that’d be admitting defeat.
He stepped onto her
tongue (he could feel it shudder in response!) and carefully traipsed into the
cavernous mouth. His feet were instantly soaked, and hot breath saturated with
spit washed over him. He smelled all sorts of things, but the most recognizable
was the lingering scent of the coffee she had drank earlier, and a hint of that
sweet tea. He ignored it all. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. And he was going
to prove it.
In one swift
motion, Nellie closed her mouth, tilted her head back, and swallowed.
Too easy.
She had dropped so
many hints, too. Told him about the sorceresses and how they ate humans to gain
vim, more specifically the power to control the thoughts of others… She’d explained
that her hypnosis worked by manipulating what he already believed was true… Why,
she’d practically given the game away, and he still fell for it. He was so
consumed by the idea that it was all just a trick that he failed to realize
what he was walking into.
She had been alive
for well over a hundred years now. The city had changed a lot in that time. And
yet, some things remained the same as always: The old confidence trick never
failed. Let somebody believe that they’ve got it all figured out and they’ll
willingly wander into their undoing.
She shuddered as a
rush coursed through her body. Richard had reached her stomach. By then he must
have realized that he’s been had—too little, too late. It didn’t matter how
many she ate, the feeling of her vim replenishing itself was always
exhilarating. If this was ‘severe psychological distress,’ it sure felt
amazing. Her body stretched outward an inch or two and pulsed with renewed
vitality. Good. She was feeling awfully shrimpy lately.
Her sisters hadn’t
made it far before the trail of bodies in their wake led the police right to
them. They had made such a mess of things; it was inevitable that they’d be
caught.
Nellie, on the
other hand… She was a clever one. She’d operated by her lonesome, luring
self-assured, well-to-do college students by beguiling them before they got the
bright idea of telling anybody where they were going. And then she’d swallow
them whole, leaving no evidence behind… Well, except their footwear. Perhaps
she ought to stop telling them to take those off, even if she’d have to miss
the feeling of their tiny little feet climbing in her palm and stepping onto
her tongue.
But it was so
thrilling to make a fool out of them! That was the best part. To leverage their
own arrogance against them, to make them willingly walk into their own doom. Of
course, Richard’s fate was sealed from the moment he ingested the shrinking potion
in his tea. (Hey, she hadn’t lied—It was not a hallucinogen. Of course, he
couldn’t have known that she was immune to her own concoctions…) She couldn’t
help but toy with him, though. It’d be so boring to just eat him right away.
Besides, why waste the effort picking his tiny body off the floor when she
could just have him come to her?
She’d been doing
this for a hundred years, so she had to keep it interesting for herself. Watching
those fools gawk up at her from the palm of her hand and dumbly throw
themselves into her waiting mouth never got old. She’d racked up quite the body
count doing this, but it would seem that nobody had traced all those disappearances
to the same culprit, let alone to her. Really though, in a city of hundreds of
thousands of people, who’s going to miss one or two idiots?
Slowly, that rush
she felt whittled away. She was sated for now, but in only a week or two’s time
she’d feel that craving again, that hunger that could only be stilled by
devouring another sucker. She’d claimed at least two victims every month
without fail. She had to: Now that she had given up her humanity to attain
eternal life, she was fated to sustain herself like this. Luckily for her,
there’s a sucker born every minute, so she never went hungry.
Sometimes she even
managed to snag more than two in a month, and that meant she could do better
than just survive. She’d gain a surplus of vim that slowly accumulated. One
day, her control over the minds of others would be so overwhelming that she
could dominate masses of people at once. Then she’d feast every day,
exponentially empowering herself until none would be able to stop her… But that
was a long way off.
Until then, she’d
better get to planning her next move. The ‘occult studies’ story had worked
wonders so far, none of her victims had suspected that there was no such
program in the Humanities department. Still, it was probably best not to keep
the same MO for too long. Maybe she’d hit the business schools next—those types
all believe themselves to be invincible, she thought to herself. Perhaps next
time she could try to lure two marks in one go. Then again, that might be too
risky… But that also made it an exciting idea.
Nellie stood up,
stretched, and rubbed her stomach. Goodbye, Richard, she thought. You were fun
while you lasted… But I won’t miss you. Perhaps no-one will, at least, not too
much— That’s what I’m counting on. And if anybody comes looking for you anyway,
I’ll lead them right to where you went…
End Notes:
As a reminder, feedback is always appreciated! Next chapter will be titled Guardian Angel. See you then!
III: Guardian Angel by Macroscope
Author's Notes:
Got a longer, lighthearted gentle giantess story this time. Hope you're in a feelgood mood!
Fucking… ow. Son
of a bitch, this is the worst.
Ah, excuse my
French. I’m just trying to get across here that I am in the worst pain I’ve
ever felt in my life right now.
So, little
backstory. I was walking down this alleyway on my way home, right? It’s my
usual route, never had any trouble. Then, right out of nowhere, this complete
nutjob in a black sedan comes round the corner, screeching tires.
Cars aren’t even
supposed to be back here! Where’d he come from?! The alley’s too narrow, I had
nowhere to go, and this asshole wouldn’t stop for nada. Didn’t even brake. So
he barrels into me, I roll over the top of the car, like in an action movie.
But action movie
heroes just walk away from that kinda thing. It looks like I won’t be doing
that. Can’t move. Can’t even reach for my phone to call an ambulance. I’m just
laying here on the wet stones. Jesus fucking Christ, it hurts so much. Just
telling this story in my head to distract myself from it, but it’s not working.
Yeah, I’m
definitely bleeding. My abdomen feels like it’s got a thousand knives in it.
And my legs… I think they’re bent at an angle they’re not supposed to be in. I
can’t see what it looks like from the position I’m lying in, but I’m almost
glad for it.
Why? Why was that
car here, and why was he in such a hurry? I guess I’ll die never knowing the
answers to those questions. What did I do to deserve this?!
I’m starting to
get lightheaded. Suppose this is the end. I stare up at the inky clouds in the
evening sky, the drizzling rain staining my face. Any moment now, I’ll lose
consciousness, and I’ll probably never regain it.
But before that
happens, I notice something bright out of the corner of my eye. I look over and
see a woman standing a little ways away, or a woman-like figure anyway—she’s
entirely clad in white robes, complete with a hood over her head. She literally
seems to radiate light, and… I might just be seeing things on account of the
lightheadedness, but she seems REALLY freakin’ tall. Like, head at least four stories
up in the air-kinda tall, maybe even five. Hard to tell from down here, my
vision going woozy and all. Seems as if there’s just barely enough room for her
in this alley without having to move sideways.
Well, is this it?
Have I died, and is she going to escort me to the afterlife? I hope not,
because that’d mean the pain doesn’t go away when you die. That would suck.
She begins pacing
towards me. Her being so massive and all, I’d expect the ground to tremble with
her footfalls or something, but no—it’s really quiet. She’s barefoot, I notice.
Her enormous feet land on the damp pavement with only the slightest noise, like
the slapping sound of somebody walking over a tiled floor. It’s the uncanniest
thing.
With those long
legs, it only takes her a few strides to reach me. Yeah, she’s definitely no
ordinary human. Her toes are each as large as my head, easily—hell, the big
ones are as wide as my waist. She’s five stories for sure, could be even taller
than that.
She sinks through
her knees and looms over me, her body shielding me from the rain. I try to say
something but only end up coughing. She brings a finger to her lips and shushes.
“Rest easy. I
mean you no harm. You are not going to die. I shall bring you to a hospital, if
you would allow me to,” she says to me. Her voice is barely louder than a
murmur, yet it has a firmness to it, a hint of authority.
I just lie there
for a second, taking in the sight, too stunned to process her words. Her whole
body glows with a gentle light. It’s not glaring to look at. Calming, rather, like
a dim lantern. I see her eyes studying me way up above, past that wall of
pristine white robes—not a speck of dirt on them by the way, even the rain
doesn’t seem to stain them! Or rather, she’s studying my injuries, I should say.
Those eyes are a brilliant golden color I’ve never seen on anyone before. Her
skin, on closer inspection, is a light tan shade—couldn’t tell before on
account of my poor vision and that light radiating off of it. Her hair is a
darker shade of brown, and it hangs around her face in thick locks that curl
towards the tips.
All in all, her
beauty is immaculate, there’s an inhuman flawlessness to it—again, it’s as
uncanny as it is captivating.
“Time is of the
essence,” she speaks up again, snapping me out of my distraction. Right, I’m
dying, should probably get that looked at. “You urgently need medical
attention. I fear that human physicians would arrive too late to save your
life, even if they were promptly alerted to your situation. I would like to
help you, but I will not touch you without your permission. Nod once if you understand
and would permit me to attempt to save you, or shake your head if you prefer to
be left alone.”
Again I feel at a
loss for how to respond at first, but this time I manage to snap myself out of
it after a couple seconds. Time is indeed short, so I better decide right away.
I just nod. I have no idea who or what this lady is, but what do I have to
lose? I need first aid or else I’m going to die and she’s the only one around
to help. I don’t want to die.
“As you wish.
Please try not to move. I will be delicate."
It doesn’t take
long before I find out what she means by that. She reaches her hands down and
scoops me up, very carefully, as if I’m a wounded baby bird she intended to
nurse back to health. Well, I guess that’s not too far off.
Once I’m safely
in her palms, she stands up straight again. She moves nice and slow for my
sake, but I still feel all woozy again. I can feel my consciousness starting to
slip away. That’s not good.
“Hey,” I manage.
“I don’t… feel so good. Is the hospital far?”
“It will take us
a little while to get there, I fear, yes,” she replies. “And your condition
appears to be critical. Thankfully, I should be able to stabilize you for the
time being. Once again, please remain still.”
Before I can tell
what’s happening, she brings her hands—with me in them—up to her face, and then
slowly presses her lips against my body, directly over the wounds in my abdomen.
I don’t get the chance to protest, so I just reflexively tense up, expecting whatever
she’s doing to hurt like a bitch.
…Whoa.
There’s… barely
any pressure at all. Wow, how do I even describe it? I expected to feel all
sorts of things, but instead I… almost don’t feel the contact. The pain’s gone,
too— It all slipped away within a second of her lips touching my body. And it
doesn’t even feel like something’s pressing into me, more like… I’m being
caressed. Well, I am, she’s cradling me in her hands, but, I mean… Her lips are
large enough to cover my whole torso, and it feels like I’m being gently
massaged everywhere all at once, all tingly and relaxed. It simultaneously is
and isn’t overwhelming: I can’t process all these stimuli coming in, and yet
I’ve never felt so serene.
I have no idea
how much time has passed. It could’ve been two seconds or the rest of my life.
But at some point she moves her face away from me, and only then do I start
coming to my senses again. I can’t help but smile like an idiot. For the second
time tonight I wonder, what did I do to deserve this? I must look pathetic,
lying here in the palms of her hands with a dumb grin on my face, but I’m well
past the point of caring.
She doesn’t seem
to care either. “There,” she says, “that should seal your wounds and keep your
mind and body stable, if only for the time being. We must get you in a hospital
bed while it lasts. I will begin moving now. Do not be alarmed.”
Sure enough, she
begins pacing out of the alleyway, carrying me in her cupped hands. She only
moves one step at a time, and yet it’s as fast as I could run. I actually
manage to sit up straight. Still can’t move much, but instead of pain there’s
just a numbness.
It’s a relaxing
ride. I still feel all tingly, and her walking creates a sort of gentle rocking
motion. It might’ve put me to sleep if I didn’t just have a near-death
experience. To our left and right I see the fourth and fifth floors of the
buildings we’re passing by—it’s not every day you see those at eye level.
Then I look behind
me and— Wow. Hadn’t really noticed before on account of her robes and the pain
I was in, but now that she’s carrying me at chest level, I can certainly tell
that she’s quite… shapely. I snap out of it and quickly look up to her face. Wouldn’t
do to be caught staring now. Luckily, she’s preoccupied with looking ahead of
where she’s walking.
“How’d you do
that just now? And who or what are you? Um, if you don’t mind me asking,
ma’am,” I meekly ask her.
She casts her
eyes to the ground. “Regrettably, I no longer have a name to introduce myself
with. As for what I am, or what I previously was… I suppose ‘Angel’ is the
closest concept in human culture. My kind has limited dominion over life and
death.”
The ‘Angel’ looks
at me again. “For instance, our blessing can still your pain and briefly alleviate
the worst effects of your injuries, as you have just experienced. Yet I and my
kin are not permitted to use this miraculous ability, save for extraordinary
circumstances. Our intended role is not to save humans from death. Instead, we
are meant to console the lonely and the abandoned on their deathbed, to guide
them towards acceptance of their fate, and to escort their souls to their appropriate
destination afterwards.”
She lets out a
quiet sigh. “I… did not accept that designated purpose. I wished to help the
living, not just the dying. I overstepped my role. And for that prideful
defiance, I was exiled.”
“Gosh,” I said,
processing all of that. “An Angel, you say? Like, from heaven? I thought angels
had wings? Or were actually a flaming ring with eyes on it, or something?”
“I merely used
the human concept of angels as the closest analogy,” the Angel coolly replies.
“I am not precisely the being you are thinking of, but it is the best
description available. As for my appearance, my kind is able to take various
guises as needed… Well, usually. I was relieved of that particular ability when
I was exiled, so I am now stuck in this form. Although, I can still pose as an
ordinary human if need be… but that would prevent me from carrying you like
this.”
I look over the
rim of her cupped hands to see where we are. She’s already made it several
blocks in just the minute or so we’ve been talking. I see a few groups of
people wandering up and down the street, but they don’t seem to notice the gigantic
Angel walking in the middle of the road at all. I’m guessing no-one can see her
unless she wants them to? Would explain how she’s gone unnoticed all this time.
I look back up at
her. “Well, I’m not complaining. Your appearance right now is lovely, if you
don’t mind me saying,” I tell the Angel. I’m not usually so forward with
someone I just met, but I’m still riding the high of that ‘blessing,’ plus the
whole situation is just surreal. I can’t help but just say what I’m thinking.
“That is kind of
you to say, but know that your flattery has no effect. Vanity is strictly
forbidden for my kind.” She says that, but with her face being so large and
close to me, I can definitely notice that faint blush on her cheeks.
As we continue
moving through the backstreets of the city, it strikes me that this Angel must
not get to talk to people very often. It really does seem like no-one except me
is able to see her.
“Does it get
lonely? Like, do you just live by yourself?” I ask.
“That is correct.
My life in exile is solitary by design. Most of the humans I rescue are already
unconscious by the time I come across them. My kind is supposed to never think
of our own wants, so it is shaming to admit it… But I do enjoy the opportunity
to talk like this, even if only for a little while.”
For just a
second, she gently smiles down at me. Then the expression is gone again and her
eyes are back to the street ahead of her. It just occurred to me that she must be
watching to make sure she doesn’t step on anyone.
Heh, imagine
having that conversation. “Why are you late?” “Sorry boss, an Angel happened to
catch me underfoot on my way over.” “Have you been smoking something funny
again, Bill?” Ah, I amuse myself.
I can tell we’re
nearing one of the city’s main thoroughfares by the distant cacophony of
beeping car horns that’s slowly getting louder. Sure enough, we emerge from a
side street and look out over a sea of traffic stuck in a massive jam. Hundreds
of people in their little cars (well, they seem little from up here), each of
them staunchly convinced that they should get to go home first.
Huh. It’s a busy
road, but congestions are rare at this time in the evening. Let alone this bad.
“How were you
planning to get past this?” I ask. She might be effectively invisible to all of
these people, but there’s no way she can get through without bumping into
something. There’s no room for her to put her foot down anywhere.
“Do not be
concerned,” she curtly replies.
Before I can say
anything else, the Angel lifts her foot and delicately places it on top of one
of the cars waiting in line. I’m utterly baffled as I watch her lift her other
foot as well and place it on the next car in the lane beside it. I couldn’t
believe what I was seeing. Surely she must weigh… like, a lot? I’d expect
either car to have gone ‘crunch,’ but their suspensions barely reacted.
“You’re, uh, a
lot lighter than you look, huh?” I mutter absently. Then I realize what I just
said and hastily add, “Not that I thought you were heavy or anything!"
“Fear not. There
is nothing you can say that would offend me, though politeness is of course
appreciated,” the Angel tells me. “As for your question, you assumed correctly:
Ordinarily, my weight would be far too much for these vehicles to withstand.
Thankfully, my kind is able to temporarily make ourselves much lighter relative
to our surroundings. It is normally used to fly or hover, but it is also useful
in these situations.”
I figure that she
must’ve also lost the ability to fly, given that she hasn’t used it. Maybe she
did have wings, once? Probably a sore spot if that’s the case, so I don’t ask.
“I must
concentrate to maintain this state, however,” she says. “For the sake of the
people we are passing over, I would ask that you try not to cause a
distraction.”
I do as she says
and just try to sit still. I can’t help but look down at the sight below us,
though. It’s unbelievable. Her feet are so big that her toes droop over the
edge of the car roof she’s standing on. Heh, those people have toes practically
covering their windows, and they don’t notice a thing! It almost makes me
laugh, it all looks so… insane. Maybe I’m just experiencing a dying dream or
something. Well, I’m having a blast either way.
We get about
halfway across the road. The other half is for traffic going the other
direction, and it’s pretty much empty, so it should be smooth sailing from
here. Still, what on Earth created this whole mess?
The Angel seems
to be wondering that too. She stops, turns her head, peers down the road. I look
over as well. There seems to be some kind of pileup a little further ahead
blocking most of the road. I can see bodies lying on the asphalt amid broken
glass, and they look bloodied… That ain’t good.
“That must be the
cause of all this chaos. An accident has taken place on the road ahead of us,”
she says. “I apologize, but I must take a detour to investigate right away. I
hope that you are able to hold out a while longer?”
“Oh, yeah, no
problem. That blessing of yours literally did wonders,” I assure her.
She turns and
begins striding along the road. We’re technically going against the tide of
traffic, but nobody’s using this lane at the moment anyway. That being the
case, she no longer needs to watch her step as much, so she’s moving a lot
faster. I feel the air rush past me and see the rows and rows of cars down
below. It’s quite a sight.
We soon arrive at
the scene, and… Gosh, there’s quite a few wounded people. Even from up here I
can tell that it’s bad. Several have lost consciousness from the looks of it.
There’s some bystanders who seem like they have no idea what to do. Guess
they’re waiting for an ambulance to arrive, but I don’t hear any approaching
sirens yet...
“I will need my
hands free to help them,” the Angel said.
“Help them? With
all these witnesses?” I’m not sure how she operates, but I figure the idea is
that nobody is supposed to notice her. It’s not common knowledge that there’s
an invisible giant lady going around town saving people, after all.
“Let me worry
about that.” Her voice has an urgent tone to it. Right, this is probably not a
good time for questions.
“You seem well
enough to sit upright. If you please,” she says as she moves the hand I’m
sitting in to her shoulder. It takes me a second to understand what she’s
asking. My legs don’t work properly, but I manage to crawl my way over and pull
myself up by the fabric of her robe. It’s a little scary considering how high
up I am, but I can’t complain if it helps save a bunch of people the same way I’m
being saved… Plus, this whole experience seems so dreamlike that I barely feel
like I’m in any real danger.
As soon as I’m
settled in she steps closer to the crash victims and begins singing a song in a
breathy voice. It’s a melody I don’t recognize, but it’s pleasant to listen to.
Very much so, in fact. Her voice echoes through the street. The victims who are
still conscious stop writhing in pain, the bystanders’ eyes seem to glaze over,
even the car horns die out. Everyone has forgotten what they were doing to stop
and listen. I can feel myself slipping into a trance, too…
“We’re ready.
Shall we go?”
“Eh?”
I blink. Where am
I again?
Ah, that’s right.
Hit by a car, giant Angel, on her shoulder, I remember now. Heh heh, that’s
funny now that I think about it—usually it’s the Angel that goes on your shoulder.
I look down.
She’s holding half-a-dozen unconscious people in her cupped hands.
“I was asking if
you are ready to proceed to the hospital,” she repeated, looking at me from the
corner of her eye.
“Oh, sure.”
Probably for the
best that we get a move on. The numbness is starting to give way to a dull
ache. I don’t look forward to the pain returning with full force.
As if she’s
reading my mind, the Angel gives me a reassuring smile. “We will be there soon.
I shall move quickly.” She walks over to the empty side of the road with quick
strides and prepares to cross it.
Unfortunately,
she is in such a hurry that she almost fails to notice a car zooming through
the lane she was about to step into. She manages to retract her foot just in
time, but her entire body lurches back in response, and it causes me to lose my
balance!
I quickly try to
adjust, but overcompensate and start tumbling forward. In a reflex I flip
around on my belly and try to cling onto her robe, but I find no purchase in
the folds of cloth. I want to clamber back up but my legs still won’t respond.
I panic and shut my eyes as I begin sliding off the front of her shoulder…
But before I
fully enter a freefall, I hear the Angel let out a small cry of surprise. A
split second later, something shoves against my back, and I feel like I’m being
squished.
I keep my eyes
squeezed shut. It takes a while before I realize I’m no longer falling, and I’m
not dead.
Once I do, I open
my eyes. All I see before me is the taut white cloth pressed up against my
face. It’s rather soft, like I’m hugging a mattress… a really nice brand new
one.
“A-Are you quite
alright?” I hear the Angel’s voice above me ask. I wriggle a bit to free my
neck and look up. There, past the folds of white, I can see her face. She looks
very flustered, quite unlike her unflappable demeanor so far. Her cheeks are so
flushed that I can tell from down here.
Down here… I turn
my head around to try and see where exactly I wound up.
I can tell that
it’s her arm pressing against my back. Her hands were already full, so the only
way she could break my fall is by squashing me against herself like this.
Squashing me
against… her… tit.
Yep. Now I get
why she’s so flustered. I can feel my own face heating up.
This is either
the worst or the best day of my life. Maybe both.
The Angel clears
her throat. “Um, we are a-almost there! Let us hurry!”
Wait, she’s not
gonna pull me back up first—Whoa!
She’s on the move
again, and I feel utterly helpless. My arms are pinned, and my legs wouldn’t do
me any good even if they worked right now. I can’t look ahead, either. All I
can do is bury my face into her… Well, into her, and hope for the best. My
whole world is shaking like an earthquake.
At some point
midway, the pressure keeping me in place loosens up too much. I feel my body
beginning to slide and let out a very manly and brave cry of alarm. She
responds immediately by pressing her arm against my back even harder, stopping
my descent but burying me even further into her breast. It’s getting hard to
breathe…
I can barely see
anything now, and black spots begin to dance around my vision. I was already in
bad shape, so this is all too much for my body to bear… I…
“I beg of you,
awaken,” I hear the Angel say.
My eyes flutter
open. I see her face looming above me, her hood down, forehead gleaming with
anxious sweat and tiny rain droplets, eyebrows knitted together. Her expression
softens when she sees that I am conscious.
“Oh, thank
goodness, you are alright.”
“In a manner of
speaking,” I say with a wince. The blessing is clearly wearing off, and now my
everything hurts. I look around and see that I’m being cradled in her hands again.
She’s kneeling in what I recognize to be the parking lot just outside the
hospital.
“I cannot
apologize enough for this… incident. I promised to rescue you, to offer you
safe passage, yet I very nearly claimed your life. And in such an unseemly way,
too…” Her body is perpetually framed in light, but now her cheeks are glowing
red too, and her eyes are wide with various emotions. Her reserved demeanor
from earlier is nowhere to be seen. “I would also ask that you forgive my
disorderly appearance at the moment. It has been a very long time since I have
had such intimate contact with anyone, and it was quite sudden,” she confides
in me.
“Don’t worry
about it, accidents happen,” I tell her.
“Not with beings
such as I. We are supposed to be above such… flaws.” She casts her eyes to the ground.
“And that is not the end of my mistakes tonight. I should have handed you over
to the hospital as soon as I got here, but I wanted to save you myself. I gave
you special treatment because I grew attached to you. I am selfish and a
disgrace. It is no wonder that I was exiled.”
I sit there
awkwardly in her cupped hands, not knowing what to say to make her feel better.
The drizzling rain still isn’t letting up.
I decide to
change the subject. “Where’d those other people you were carrying go?”
“They are
currently being attended to by the hospital staff. Them and I have an agreement
to keep my existence a secret so that I can save humans in this manner,” she
says.
“I see—Augh!” My
face involuntarily scrunches up as a sharp pain courses through my abdomen. It’s
getting worse by the second. “I think I better head in as well, then.”
She smiles sadly.
“Yes. I am glad to see you off safely, at least. By means of apology, I shall ensure
that your recovery will progress smoothly and with minimal pain. Goodbye to
you, little one.”
“Ah, but, before
you go,” I say, raising a hand. She raises her eyebrows in surprise and
curiosity. My vision starts to swim, I don’t have much time, but this is my
only chance to ask. “Will I ever… see you again?”
She pauses for a
moment, then closes her eyes. “Worry not. I will always watch over you from
afar.”
“That’s not… what
I meant…” I say between ragged breaths. The pain is even worse than I remember.
“You shouldn’t… have to be alone… I want to—”
“Ssssshhh,” she
shushes me. “Do not fret over me. I will be alright. You, however, must rest
now. Good night.”
Before I can
manage to force out any further words, she brings me up to her lips and buries
my face in them.
I am in heaven
again. In an instant, the pain is gone.
The next instant,
so am I.
Slowly, my senses
come back to me. I carefully raise my head and look around groggily for a few
seconds. My eyes are still bleary, but I soon recognize that I am lying in a
bed in a hospital room. How’d I wind up here again?
I hear footsteps
echo down the hall. The owner of those footsteps, a woman in a white coat
holding a clipboard, steps into the room not long after
“Ah, you’re
awake. How are you feeling?” she says to me.
“Well, a bit
sore, but mostly confused. What happened to me, exactly?”
“You were
involved in a hit-and-run accident. It makes sense that you don’t remember it,
since you suffered a minor concussion and lost consciousness en route to the
hospital.”
“Oh,” I manage to
utter as I attempt to process that. After a few seconds, I think of a good
question to ask. “Any complications or lasting injuries I need to worry about?”
“There were some
internal injuries in your abdomen and bruising across your body, but they will
heal completely with a little bedrest,” she explains, studying the clipboard
she’s holding. “Your legs suffered the most severe injuries. When you arrived
here, they had multiple fractures and were seriously bent out of shape.”
My eyes widen. I
look to the foot of my bed for the first time and only now notice that they are
indeed covered in casts. “Is it… Am I going to recover from this?” I ask,
barely louder than a whisper.
“Yes, I have good
news about that,” she says as she looks at me with a reassuring smile. “The
bones have set properly, and there appears to be no lasting damage. It looks as
if you’ll make a full recovery, and much faster than expected at that! Doctors
are calling it a miracle.”
I let out the
breath I’ve been holding as I collapse back into my pillow. “Oh thank God.”
“You’ve been unconscious
for a while, so we’ll be monitoring your health for now,” the woman tells me. I
guess she’s a nurse. “But the prognosis is excellent. It’s likely that you’ll
be able to leave the hospital quite soon.”
“Well, that’s…
great! It sounds like I got really lucky.”
“Someone must’ve
been watching over you,” the nurse quips.
“Haha, I guess
so. I think I actually had a dream that an angel came to save me,” I tell her.
I don’t know what compelled me to mention that. Might be because I’m still
lightheaded.
“I’ll tell the
paramedics that. I’m sure they’ll appreciate the compliment,” she says with a
wink.
“One more thing:
Any hospital bills I should worry about after this?”
“It’s already been
taken care of, no need to worry,” she tells me. Alright then? “In any case, I
should leave you to rest now.”
She turns to
leave. Some subconscious part of my mind screams at me to speak up. “Wait!”
The nurse looks
back at me with a quizzical look. “Yes, is something the matter?”
I only just now
notice that her eyes are a really unusual golden color. It’s strange—Don’t
think I’ve ever heard of anyone with eyes like that, yet they somehow seem
familiar. I stall for a second or three, having completely forgotten what I
wanted to say.
“Uh, just—Thank
you, I guess,” I eventually manage to utter.
She smiles again,
cradling the clipboard to her chest. “You’re welcome.”
Today I’m finally
getting discharged from the hospital. Well, I say ‘finally,’ but given how
grave my injuries apparently were it really is a miracle I’m able to leave so
soon. And on my own two feet, no less.
I never saw the
nurse who greeted me when I first woke up again. I asked some of the other
staff about her but they didn’t know who I was talking about. Strange, that. Shame,
too—I’ve had her on my mind a lot while I’ve been lying around. I think I
would’ve liked to get to know her better.
Oh well. Better
luck next time.
On my way home, I
keep having this weird feeling of being followed, as if someone’s watching me.
I even looked behind me a couple times but I never saw a glimpse of anyone.
Didn’t make the feeling go away. It’s as if I can sense something—or
someone—looming over me, even though the street before my eyes is vacant.
The weirdest
thing, though, is that it’s not an unnerving feeling. If anything, I feel
comforted. I’ve never been religious, but now I can’t help but think there must
be someone watching over me, like that nurse said. It’s a pleasant thought.
That night, as
I’m settling into bed in my apartment, I catch a glimpse of her—the angel I
remember from my dreams. Her eye peers through my window, settles on me for a
few seconds, then relaxes and pulls back. I hop out of bed and stumble to my
window but she’s nowhere to be seen.
She’s there,
though. I know it, even if I can’t confirm it. Smiling upon me, pleased and
relieved that I made it home safe.
I smile back and
wave at her.
End Notes:
Thanks for reading! This one took me a while to get right. I'd really appreciate some feedback, so if you have any thoughts at all, don't be afraid to leave a comment!
And wouldn't you know it, the next chapter is shaping up to be an even longer and more introspective character-focused gentle story. It's gonna be called Colossal Statue. Please look forward to it!
P.S. This site's text editor seems to be on the fritz, had to mess with it a bit to get this chapter to lay out properly. Anyone else have that issue?
IV: Colossal Statue by Macroscope
Author's Notes:
Hey there! Been a hot minute, hasn't it? This chapter turned out quite a bit longer than I originally planned. So there's more for you to enjoy, I guess! Happy reading.
I stare out to
sea. It is what I have always done.
Well. Not always.
For a long time, at least. I do not know how long precisely. Time means nothing
to a being such as I.
Nearly as long as
this town has existed, at least. I arrived here when it was only just emerging
as a maritime trade port. Precious few people knew then that I am no ordinary
statue.
None alive know
today. I am good at staying still. I have had much time to practice.
I watch. The ships
enter and leave the harbor. Ships today are impressive in scale, but ugly and
inelegant.
I had thought my
patience infinite, but it seems even I grow bored when there is nothing of
interest to look at.
For lack of
anything interesting to focus on, I begin to reminisce. I would close my eyes
for it, but someone might notice.
I was created in
Greece. How long ago, I cannot say—time means nothing. Much longer ago than I
have stood at this harbor.
My creator was a
master artisan and inventor. He had loved and lost. His only daughter was dead—taken
and murdered in the night by brigands. So, he made me. It is the Gods’ cruel
sense of humor, one might suppose—to take his daughter away just give him the
spark of inspiration to create a new one using his talents alone.
“You, my child,
shall never perish. Your bronze skin will not rust, your wooden bones will not
rot,” he told me when I first opened my eyes.
He was right. My
body has yet to show signs of decay. He made me that way so that I would never
have to leave him.
When I first
learned that he fashioned me in the likeness of another girl—my elder twin sister?
—I went to a nearby lake to study my reflection. Not to admire it, but to learn
what she must have looked like. I am of slender build, with wiry limbs and firm
shoulders; My sister was evidently no stranger to daily labor. My cheeks appear
soft and smooth, belying the unyielding metal they are fashioned from, yet my pointed
eyebrows give me a naturally austere expression. I wear a tunic and a mantle,
but no sandals or other footwear.
Still, we are not
precisely alike in appearance. My hair is styled in the same side braid as she
had… But whereas my creator had mentioned his daughter as having raven hair,
mine is the same shiny bronze color as my skin—as are my eyes and everything
else. My clothes, also. Since I cannot take them off, they may as well be my
skin.
There is one other
notable difference: I am some seventy-five cubits tall. None would think to
abduct me—and if they did, they would regret it.
We spent our days
together in solitude, in a forested mountainside where none would disturb us.
He would attend to his daily chores; I would sit and watch and attempt to
fathom the world around me. Occasionally I asked him questions and he answered
them to the best of his ability.
“What is
happiness? Are we happy?” I once asked.
“We live without want.
I have you, whom I hold dear. And I am loved by you in turn. Though I still
grieve, I am happy. I hope you are too,” he had said in reply.
He was right. I
was happy—fulfilled. I wanted him to know that, to express my gratitude for having
brought me into such a serene existence, but lacked the words to do so.
Instead, I picked him up one day and hugged him to my cheek. Gently; I was
aware that I could easily crush him. He was surprised, but thankful.
Yet his definition
of happiness did not account for one thing, a fatal flaw in his plan for our
existence together. His own skin and bones grew brittle with age.
I had to leave him
anyway. He went where I cannot follow. I hope his first daughter is with him.
For a time I sat
still. I held his remains in my hands until they were nothing but bones. I was
made to give company to my creator, and now that creator was gone. As was my
purpose, my happiness. For the first time I felt as hollow as my body is.
Then I reminisced,
as I do now. I remembered the conversations we had. Considered them over and
over. Eventually, I concluded that if I had no purpose any longer, I ought to
find a new one.
So I thought it
over again. But no matter how long I thought, I could not decide on an answer
that convinced me.
I changed my
approach. If I cannot find a purpose within me, then perhaps it can be found
somewhere out there. For the first time, I ventured out into the world I had
wondered about all my life.
I have no heart,
no breath, yet I felt trepidation all the same.
I wandered the
land. My footfalls left deep marks in the fields and grasslands I passed
through. I saw many human settlements and thought about trying to speak to
them, to learn about them. But whenever I approached, the humans would hurry
into their homes and not reemerge until I left.
I wondered why, at
first. Once, I lifted the roof off of a human hut. The occupants shrieked in
terror and hid under their table. I understood then that my appearance
frightened humans.
Is it because I am
so tall and strong compared to them, or because they had never seen one such as
I before? But I have never seen one such as myself before either, and yet my
own appearance does not frighten me when I see it on the water’s surface. It
must be the former. I supposed that I might also fear a creature that had the
power to destroy me with an errant movement, had I ever met any.
I decided then to
leave humans alone as much as I could, giving settlements a wide berth and
staying off of roads whenever that was possible. Sometimes my presence
frightened humans despite my best efforts, and that fright became anger, and
they would chase after me.
But I walk with
great strides and never tire, so no human could keep up with me. Not even on
horseback.
My creator had
told me about the world. Bits and pieces. Yet on my journey I saw many things I
did not understand. Was there so much he did not tell me about? Or had the
world changed since he was alive? It is a difficult thing for me to fathom.
Change is alien to me.
I passed mountains,
coasts, forests. I realized I was not in Greece any longer. I kept walking. It
did not matter where to.
Eventually I had
reached a distant land, and I ran into the sea once again. I still had not
found a purpose. I decided to stop and sit down on a hillside and ponder what I
had learned during my journey.
Humans passed by
the place where I sat. Curiously, they were not frightened by me this time.
Some even seemed to pause to admire my beauty. I learned then that I was not
deemed a threat as long as I remained perfectly still.
I knew not where
else to go, so I remained where I was. The locals grew accustomed to my
presence. On a number of occasions human children attempted to scale me. Those
who were successful would sit on my shoulder for a while and then climb down
again. It was strangely exciting: What were their intentions? Would they fall
and get hurt? I hoped not. I tried even harder to remain still so as not to
frighten them. I appreciated their company, however brief.
I do not know
precisely how long I sat there. Time is meaningless to me. Days or years, months
or decades, weeks or centuries. Judging from what I know of human lifespans,
though, it was most likely the latter—I saw many generations grow old.
The humans who lived
in the area and the infrequent traveler would use the shade I provided as a
meeting place, or my toes as a bench to rest upon. It did not bother me. They
would hold conversations there. I learned their unfamiliar language by
listening closely and recognizing context clues. Soon I knew enough to overhear
that I was in a place called Spain, and the sea I looked out over was called
the Atlantic Ocean.
Eventually I began
receiving visits from humans who spoke different languages. These foreign visitors
soon became more and more frequent. Did they come all that way to meet me? But
none spoke to me directly or attempted any other method of communication with
me.
They did still
have conversations in my presence, however, and so I continued to learn. They
were visitors from Portugal, from France, from Morocco, from England. I began
to learn their tongues as well.
Often times, the
first words I could recognize from each language were those meaning ‘beautiful’
or synonyms thereof. I will confess to some vanity: It was flattering to hear
the admiration of so many. If my cheeks could blush, they would have given me
away. Was my purpose to be admired like this? Yet that answer felt too shallow
to be satisfying.
Some wondered aloud
where I had come from, or who had created me. I considered answering their
questions but decided against it. After all, they only dared come near me as
long as I remained still, and I had learned that humans became aggressive when
frightened.
So I sat and
thought and listened. I wondered if this was to be my life from now on. My skin
was frequently besmirched by the elements, the wildlife, and at times unruly humans,
but periodically the locals would clean me, clambering all over me and
polishing me until I looked like new. It felt nice to be appreciated.
One night,
however, a visitor would change that routine. Once again—change is a curious,
alien sensation, but looking back, I am glad for it.
This visitor was
from further away than any whom I had heard before, but he spoke the same
language as those from England. He was a pale, gangly man with a pensive
demeanor. He had come alone, at a time of night when I rarely had any company
besides nocturnal creatures.
He spoke to me, or
rather, spoke at me. A monologue of sorts. Spoke of his worries and why he was
here. He had been born into a wealthy family. Lived an early life free of want,
as I had. Had lost his parents, like I lost my creator. Was now alone in the
world.
“Now my peers have
elected me to lead some newly founded trading port called Mammotham as its second
mayor,” he said, voice wrought with weariness. “I do not know why—because they
believe I am my father, I suppose. But I have nothing of value to contribute in
such a role. I feel as if I have been cajoled into a purpose I am entirely
unsuited for. That is why I am here in Europe… Before my responsibilities come
to tie me down, I wished to make a journey. To run away, perhaps, but mostly to
discover myself. Yet… I cannot run forever.”
I considered that
for a moment. I had been looking for a purpose, and this man was running away
from it, and we both wound up here.
I made a snap
decision, then, to confide in him as he did to me. For the first time since I
had sat down on that hillside, I moved my head to look at him. I smiled gently,
hoping it would reassure him.
It took him a
moment to notice that I had moved. When he did, it startled him, as I imagined
it would.
“Did you just
move?” he asked. “Are you alive?”
I nodded.
“Good Lord! Have I
gone mad? Has imagination claimed my senses?!”
I shook my head.
Once he accepted
that what he saw was real and that I meant him no harm, he spoke again, this
time to me. And for the first time since I was separated from my creator, I
spoke too.
Despite our
considerable differences, we found it easy to find common ground. His way of
thinking differed from mine, but I appreciated that. I told him of my own
journey to find purpose. As the hour grew late, he announced that he had to
leave and rest for the night, but he swore that he would return.
And he did the
very next evening before sunset. He sat at my feet and spoke with me again.
It was hard to see
him very well, and I imagined it was not pleasant for him to look up at me from
all the way down by my toes. I remembered the children who would sit on my
shoulder. So, after some sparse conversation, I asked him.
“Would you like to
come up here and observe the world from my vantage point?”
He looked
hesitant. But then he said, “That would be an unforgettable experience. As long
as it is safe, I would be delighted.”
He climbed onto my
palm once I lowered it down for him. I had not done this since my creator was
alive. For a moment, the deep feeling of loneliness left me.
Once he was
settled on my shoulder, he did not speak. He simply watched as the sun’s last
rays faded and the moon rose. Sat still, looked out to the ocean, and thought,
as I did. For how long, I do not know. Time is meaningless.
Eventually he
sighed with great contentment and said “Thank you.” What happened next, I will
never forget. He stood up straight, balancing on my shoulder, carefully paced
up to the side of my head, and embraced my neck.
It is made of
unyielding bronze. Cold and hard. I have learned that humans prefer to embrace
things that are soft and warm. Yet he pressed himself against my skin as if it
were the finest silk.
It perplexed me. “What
brought you to do that?” I asked him once he let go.
He simply laughed.
“The expression on your face right now is too precious for words,” he told me
instead of answering my question. “For such a tall woman, you are positively
adorable.”
The response
deepened my confusion. Many had called me beautiful, stately, fierce—But none
had ever said THAT to me. For several seconds, I did not realize my mouth was
open. His laugh grew heartier. “Do not mock me,” I warned.
The feeling did
not displease me, however. It defies explanation.
We had more
conversations, and more nights of silent gazing in each other’s company.
One evening he had
an announcement. “It is time I returned home,” he said. “I would like to thank
you. It is because of you that I now feel ready to face the responsibilities
thrust upon my shoulders.”
I did not feel
like I had done much but silently accepted his thanks nonetheless.
That was not all,
however. “I have a proposal,” he continued. “Last night I was struck by an
idea. Perhaps I have a way to answer your yearning for purpose, if you are
interested. For this plan to work, however, you will need to join me on my
return voyage across the ocean.”
But how, I
thought. I could wade through rivers and crest mountains with ease, but to cross
an ocean was an exercise even I dared not attempt. Swimming, I feared, is
simply beyond me. I would surely sink to the ocean floor as a brick would—and I
dared not discover what that would do to me. I voiced these concerns to him.
“I have a solution
for that, too. I would ask that you trust me. If you do, please come to the docks
at the beach tomorrow after midnight.”
Out of curiosity,
I did as he asked. There he presented me with the ship that was to provide his
passage home. A curious vessel, made of metal and lacking sails. Quite
different from what I had understood ships to look like.
“It is the
state-of-the-art in shipbuilding, capable of carrying enormous amounts of cargo
without fear of sinking. I have spoken to the ship’s captain and he has assured
me that carrying a statue of your size with us would not be an issue,” he
explained.
I wished to ponder
this. Would the Spanish locals miss me? Was it truly wise to board this vessel?
But I had to choose then and there. The ship would soon leave. For once, time
was scarce. It was a strange feeling.
So I decided:
Staying in Spain any longer would do me no better than had I remained in Greece
forever. This was a rare opportunity. I had to trust this young man who had
become my only friend. He said he wanted to help me find my purpose, and I
wished to believe in him.
Thus it was that I
knelt on the deck of the ship. The floor groaned under my weight but held firm.
With my permission, my friend secured my body with a plethora of strong ropes
to ensure I would not easily fall over.
A crew of sailors
appeared once the sun rose and set about preparing the ship for departure. I
remained still so that they would not be alarmed. Some stopped to look at me, but
none seemed surprised by my presence. I assume my friend made an arrangement
with them.
The ship cast off.
We were out at open sea. The metal beneath my knees shuddered without cease. I
felt another emotion I had no prior experience with: Fear. None could harm me;
my creator had made sure of that. But I knew that if I fell overboard somehow,
I would never reemerge from the watery depths. I had yet to determine where I
wished to spend the rest of eternity, but it was certainly not at the bottom of
the sea.
Whenever the deck
was vacant, my friend would appear before me. It was as if he could sense my
unease. He spoke reassurances, promised that I would be alright, come what may.
I looked at his small form before my knees, utterly engulfed by my shadow, and
knew that there would be nothing he could do to help me in the event of
disaster befalling the ship. Yet his words still comforted me, somehow.
Eventually the
ship ground to a halt. I cautiously looked up. We had come ashore at
Mammotham—the town I still call home today.
It was but a
modest settlement back then, yet already preparing to expand. I was escorted to
an empty cobblestone square overlooking the harbor under the cover of night and
instructed to strike a pose, facing the sea.
“You shall serve
as a symbol for this town. An inspiration, a guiding light,” my friend said to
me. “In time, the citizens will grow to love you as their pride and joy.”
That did sound nice.
But would I truly help anyone by merely standing here, I wondered? Still, I had
managed to inspire my friend all the same, simply by being there. Perhaps those
were his thoughts when he brought me here.
So I stood there
as instructed. I grew used to my surroundings. For once, time meant something:
Day by day, I would see the harbor before me change, the little human workers
wandering about at my feet.
My friend kept
visiting me regularly for as long as he yet lived. I could not move my head to meet
his eyes down below, lest someone notices, but I would hear his voice. Holding
conversations as we once did was impossible like this, but I enjoyed his
company. It helped me settle into my new environment.
The town continued
to grow, to change, but I could only see the small part of it that lay before
me. I have had to infer what the rest of it behind me looks like. I remember
when they first introduced electricity in the form of street lights. The city
would be bright at all hours from then on. I marveled when I saw them turn on
for the first time.
That was when my
friend gave me a gift, too: A stone torch, outfitted with an electric beacon
made to resemble a flame. Quite ingenious. “So that you may continue to serve
as a guiding light at all hours,” he had said.
Beside the gift of
being created, for which I remain eternally thankful, I had never received a
present before. I felt loved. Truly, I was home at last.
But my happiness
was fleeting. The torch was to be a parting gift. Eventually my friend stopped
visiting. I later overheard from passers-by that he had succumbed from illness.
Time had separated me from those I care about once more. I was surrounded by
humans at all times now, but I felt as lonely as when my creator had perished.
Many years must have
passed since then. I have tried to settle into my role. But it seems today that
I am increasingly forgotten—I am less of a symbol and more of a relic. This
part of town seldom sees visitors anymore, and it is even rarer that they have
anything nice to say about me.
“What’s this thing
here, anyway?” I heard a tourist say the other day.
“Says here on this
sign that she’s meant to represent the Greek goddess Athena,” another read out.
A sign? Now who
put that there? It’s patently false, at any rate—I bear no resemblance to the Goddess.
Oh, how I wish I could correct them. But if I move or speak…
“She reminds me a
little of that statue in New York,” the first tourist remarked.
“Yeah. Only this
one’s smaller and made of bronze.”
Another statue
that looks like me, and even bigger than I am. Is she alive too, I wonder? I
should like to meet her one day if so. Does she also tire of seeing the same
thing day in, day out?
“Seems like this
thing is a poor man’s version they made to attract tourists like us to this
city,” one of them said snidely. “The only thing this one’s got going for it is
that she’s got nice legs, but only kind of. C’mon, let’s go look at something
more interesting.”
How brazenly rude!
They would not dare say such things in my presence if they knew what I was
capable of. I have half a mind to stomp my feet and give them a scare, just
once. Who would believe them? But I think better of it. It takes tremendous
willpower to keep my brow from furrowing as they leave.
I try to forget
the encounter and sink back into reverie as time passes me by. ‘The citizens
will grow to love you as their pride and joy,’ he said… What a fool I was to
believe that. Perhaps this journey I have taken was all a mistake, and I was
better off never having moved from my spot back in Greece.
I snap out of my
thoughts when all of a sudden, everything goes dark. Everything, save the
lights on the passing ships in the distance.
A power outage. I
have seen this happen a few times before. At this hour in the dead of night, it
means the city streets are almost completely dark for once.
I listen. Nobody’s
around.
This is… my
chance. The burning curiosity I have kept repressed as I stood here all these
years can finally be answered. Do I dare turn around and see what’s behind me?
Slowly I move my
head. I confirm that there is nobody at my feet. Then I turn around.
When I first
arrived in Mammotham, there was but a single building in the entire town that
matched my height. I could easily look over the roofs of the houses to the
surrounding landscape. Now, however, the buildings that lined the street before
me made even me feel puny. I cannot imagine how humans must experience walking
through here.
Not a single person
in sight, still. I cautiously step out of the square I have occupied for so
long and onto the road. Thankfully it does not crack beneath my feet. The road
runs perpendicular to the square. It is a moonless night and therefore nearly
pitch dark, but my eyes can adjust to such conditions quite well.
I peer past one of
those tall buildings flanking me. The street is truly abandoned. The humans who
work here have long since gone home. I see some metal vehicles parked in neat
rows nearby—cars, I believe they are called. I have heard them often but seldom
see them. I move closer to inspect them and in my enthusiasm nearly stumble—I
am out of practice when it comes to walking, it seems.
I stoop down to
pick up one of the smaller ones. It is lighter than I expected. I turn it over
in my hand and peer at the inner workings beneath. Human ingenuity fascinates
me—my existence sprang from it, after all. Still, I wonder if the humans of
today could make anything like me if they tried. My creator was a one-of-a-kind
master of his craft, even if he had none of the tools that modern craftsmen
have at their disposal. Now that he was dead, only I knew the secret of my
creation.
My concentration
is interrupted when I hear a loud gasp from somewhere nearby. I look in the
direction of the sound and see the dark silhouette of a little girl huddling
against a wall, staring at me.
It seems I have
been spotted.
Before I can think
of a good response, the girl opens her mouth and shrieks. It is so startling
that I nearly drop the car I was studying. I quickly place it back where I
found it and scoot away from the terrified child.
“Who’s there?!”
she wails. “I can’t see anything! I’m lost, and cold, and then the lights went
out, and now there’s a monster… I just wanna go ho-o-o-ome!”
I try not to panic
as the poor girl breaks down into loud sobs. She cannot see; if only I had a
light for her… Oh, but of course! The torch! It has practically become an
extension of myself, so I had completely forgotten I was still carrying it in
my other hand.
It has its own
generator. Usually it turns on and off by itself, but there is also a breaker
for manual operation… Now, where was it again… Ah, there! I carefully flick it
with my nail. A bright light promptly begins emanating from the torch,
illuminating the street around me.
“Ah!” the girl
gasps and shields her eyes from the harsh light. She rubs at her face for a
moment, then lowers her arm and stares at my face in wonder with curious brown
eyes. She’s wearing an adorable yellow dress, and her frizzy black hair has a
little bow in it.
“You’re not a
monster,” she says. “You’re that statue that’s always by the water!”
“That is correct,”
I tell her, and try to send her a calm smile. If she knows who I am, then
perhaps I can get her to trust me.
Her eyes widen
even further. “You can talk?!”
I nod. “What are
you doing here by yourself, little girl?”
“Umm, well, I…”
She bashfully buries her face in her knees. “I kinda ran away from home ‘cause
I was mad at my mom. But then I got lost and now I feel really dumb about it.
And then it got dark out of nowhere…”
“I see. Is your
mother looking for you right now?”
“Uh-huh,
probably,” she nods and sits up straight. “Um, I’m Ashley. What’s your name,
Miss Statue?”
“N-Name?” I blink,
perplexed. How has that never occurred to me in all these years? “I do not
think I ever got a name. Never really needed one, I suppose.”
Ashley taps a
finger to her cheek. “You know, I went to visit you a while ago with my mom,
and she told me the sign by your feet says you look like someone named Athena.
Does that help?”
“Those are lies
someone made up. I do not look like the Goddess at all. I look like my older
sister, and no one else!” I say insistently.
To my surprise,
the girl giggles a little. “Haha, you look very serious, but you’re actually
kind of silly when you’re upset, Miss Athena!”
“That’s not my
name!” My mouth scrunches up in frustration. This child does not listen at all!
But oh well. At
least she is not upset any longer. I calm myself with that thought.
“Say, it is not
good for children to be out alone so late. Even I know this much,” I tell her.
“You said you visited me before. Do you think you know the way home from
there?”
Her face becomes
anxious again. “I, I don’t know. It’s so dark now.”
“That is quite
alright. If you like, you can stay with me while we wait for someone to find
you. They might be drawn to the light of my torch,” I suggest.
Ashley nods.
“Sure, okay! My mom said I shouldn’t go with strangers, but you’re not a
stranger, are you, Miss Athena?”
I feel a twinge of
annoyance that the name has apparently stuck, but I try to keep it off my face.
“Certainly. Shall we go?”
She hops to her
feet and dusts off her dress, but then gasps as her face lights up with
excitement. “Wait! Can I ride on your shoulder, Miss Athena? You’re so tall! I
bet the view is amazing from up there!”
“Well, I suppose
it is…” I consider it. I have had children climb onto me before, but that was
when I was sitting still. Yet if it would put her at ease, then perhaps…
“Alright, as long as you promise to be careful.”
I lower my free
hand to her and she climbs on. “Wow, you have strong hands, don’t you, Miss
Athena?” She taps her little fist against my bronze skin and it makes a hollow
metal noise. I cannot help but feel endeared by her curiosity.
Slowly and
carefully, I stand back up to my full height. I bring my hand over to my
shoulder and she clambers on, sidling up against my neck.
“Are you settled
in?” I ask.
“Yup!” Ashley pats
her little hand against me to confirm it.
I retrace my route
back the way I came, one step at a time, making sure to keep my shoulders
steady and upright. I hold out my torch in front of me to light up the path
ahead, making sure there is no one else around that I might step on.
Soon enough we are
back at my spot. Out of habit, I stop to gaze out to sea.
“Wow. Everything
looks so tiny from up here,” Ashley remarks. “Sucks that I can’t see much right
now, though, since it’s so dark. And you get to see this every day, Miss
Athena! You’re so lucky.”
“I wonder about
that sometimes,” I say. “Lately I have felt rather lonely and forgotten. Every
day is spent in solitude.”
“Sah-lee-tude,”
she repeats. I suppose she might not be familiar with that word yet. “Does that
mean you don’t have any friends?”
I close my eyes.
“I did have a friend, once. He brought me here. But he has passed away long ago,
leaving me all alone.”
“Aww, it’s okay,
Miss Athena. I’ll be your friend! I can come visit you every so often.”
“That is kind of
you, but I do not know if my heart can take losing you as well,” I say.
“What do you
mean?”
“You are a human,
I am not. Humans grow old and sick while only I remain. It is the way of
things.” And the humans of today care not for me, it seems. Being alone is just
my fate, I suppose.
Ashley thought
about my words for a moment, looking to the ground far beneath us. She seemed
troubled. I realize too late that burdening one so young as her with awareness
of her own mortality may have been too cruel of me.
Before I can
apologize, though, she looks up and declares, “I wish I was like you.”
“Hmm?”
“A statue, I mean.
Big and strong and always young. And so pretty! People could look at me and
feel brave because I’d support them. And I could do that forever.”
It has been a
while since someone said nice things about me, so I smile at her. Still, I had
better correct her lofty view of what my life is like. “I do not think you
would like that very much. As I said, it is a lonely existence,” I remind her.
“But that’s
exactly why,” she insists. “One day I’ll die too, and then I can’t be friends
with you anymore. But if I were the same as you, then we could be together
forever. You could be my big sis! I always wanted a sister.”
A sister… I wish I
could have met mine.
I break out of my
thoughts when Ashley begins coughing. “Are you alright?” I ask.
She shivers so
much that I can feel it. “It’s the wind. It’s so cold,” she says.
Ah, of course! I
cannot feel the wind, so it does not bother me, but a child like Ashley should
not be exposed to the elements for too long. Being all the way up here is not
helping matters.
“Please hold on,”
I announce as I carefully lower my body to the ground and sit down, keeping my
free hand near her tiny body in case she falls. Once I am settled in, I very
gently pick her up by her waist with two fingers and bring her to my stomach,
cradling her against it.
For the first time
I curse my lack of human flesh and blood. My metal body has no warmth to give.
Still, I hope that this at least shields her from the wind. If only my torch
had a real flame.
“Thanks, Miss
Athena,” she murmurs, then has another coughing fit.
I hold my torch
aloft. Hopefully someone will see it and come investigate. I am at a loss about
what to do in this situation. Should I go to seek help? But I would not know
where to look. Remaining still and waiting is all I have ever done.
So we wait. I do
not know how long. Ashley coughs a few more times, but then her breathing
slows. I look down and see that she has fallen asleep, arms and head resting
against my finger. What is that human saying, “It is so cute I could melt?” I
am glad it is only a figure of expression, or I would have been reduced to slag
by now. I just hope that she will be alright.
Eventually my
waiting is interrupted by a voice. “Ashley! Ashley, are you there?!” I hear a
woman calling.
I feel the tiny
girl spring to life in my hand. “Mom…? Mom, I’m here!”
“Oh thank the Lord
above. Where are you, honey? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m with
Miss Athena!” Ashley yells back.
I take away my
hand and the girl slides down my body to my lap, where she carefully climbs
down to the ground. In the meantime a woman in a professional-looking suit
appears from the sidewalk and runs up to Ashley as soon as she spots her,
embracing her.
“Oh Ashley! Never
do that again, you hear me? I was worried sick. Oh, you’re so cold, we need to
get you home. Here,” she says as she takes off her jacket and drapes it over
the girl. “I’m sorry I took so long to find you. Were you scared in the dark
all by yourself?”
“A little,” Ashley
admitted. “But I wasn’t alone! Miss Athena came to find me! She’s very nice,
Mom!”
Ashley’s mother
gives her a quizzical look. “Who’s Miss Athena, then?”
Ashley rolled her
eyes and pointed at me. “The statue, of course! She’s right there where she
always is! How did you miss her, she’s so tall!”
The woman looks up
at me. I wave awkwardly at her, and she recoils in surprise. “Oh my God!”
“Um, nice to meet
you, I suppose,” I say.
Ashley’s mother
looks at me, then at her daughter’s beaming smile, then back at me.
“L-Likewise. Sorry, I was not aware that you were… alive,” she eventually
manages. “My name’s Faith, I’m Ashley’s mom. So, um… Am I to understand that
you looked after her for me?”
I nod. “It was my
pleasure. She is a kind girl. I apologize that I was not able to keep her warm,
but I am glad she is safe now.”
“Yes, well… Thank
you, I suppose,” she hesitantly says to me. Then Ashley has another coughing
fit. “Ah, sorry, it was nice meeting you, but we really should be getting home
now.”
“Right you are.
Goodbye, Ashley,” I smile and wave at her as Faith begins guiding her away.
She waves back,
then turns to her mother. “Mommy, can we visit Miss Athena tomorrow, please?”
“Not with your
cough acting up again, dear. You’ve been out for far too long.”
“But mooom! She’s
lonely! I’m her only friend right now!”
“Well, she’s a big
girl. She can handle being alone for a while. If she’s your friend, she’ll
understand that your health comes first.”
They have left my
earshot, and I am alone again. I rise to my feet and strike my usual pose,
holding the torch aloft. Soon after the streetlights finally blink back on.
Then they blink off again when the sun rises, and back on when it sets.
A week passes
without incident. Then one morning Ashley and her mother come by to visit me
again. I cannot move this time lest the whole city knows my secret. Come to
think of it, I suppose this means those two did not tell anybody about me. They
speak to me at my feet, explain that Ashley has always had a weak constitution
and that she had run away after getting fed up with being cooped up indoors all
the time.
I wish I could
join them in conversation. All I can do for now was listen. But then Faith remarks
on my lack of response, suggesting that perhaps I am not alive after all and
that they had both imagined our meeting, so I wiggle my toes in protest. Ashley
immediately points it out with a giggle.
They leave again,
then come back the week after. This routine keeps happening. Ashley has been
telling me about how she’s doing and that she hopes I am doing alright as well.
We have more in common than I thought: She spends a lot of time by herself due
to her poor health, watching the city and its people go by from her apartment
window. I begin trying to keep track of time going by so that I knew when she’ll
come visit. Finally I have something to look forward to. The days going by
means something now. I grow to care about the girl deeply, as if she were a
younger sister to me.
Still, years pass
me by all too quickly. Before I know it, two decades have elapsed and Ashley
has grown into a wonderful young woman. She still visits me by herself, when she
is well enough to. More often than not in the middle of the night. If we are
lucky, no one is around and we can actually have a conversation. She sits on my
shoulder and admires the view with me while I offer my thoughts about whatever
is troubling her that night.
I worry sometimes
that spending so many cold nights with me has had an adverse effect on her
health. She got better for a while, her health improving to the point where,
during her adolescence, it no longer restricted her so much—yet over the last
year she has been falling ill again more and more often. She has confided in me
that she is not long for this world, and that she has known this for a long
time. Still, doctors had told her that she could not hope to see her
twenty-fifth birthday at the rate her health deteriorates, so the fact that she
is twenty-seven today is an achievement in itself.
One of many
achievements, I should say. I have watched her graduate from college despite having
had to miss many classes; become a famous, award-winning artist and activist
for fair and equal treatment of Mammotham’s citizens; and win over the hearts
of nearly the entire city in the process. To them, especially the
lesser-fortunate, she has become a hero, a symbol—something I was supposed to
be but never managed. Yet I am not jealous. If anything, I am immensely proud
that she has done so much in such a short life.
And unfortunately,
the day when I must bid her farewell has come sooner than I had hoped. I have
not seen her in a month and fear the worst. Last night Faith appeared before
me—something she has not done in a long time, especially not by herself or at
that late hour. She works for the city council and has risen through its ranks
these past twenty years, which spared her no free time to spend conversing with
a statue. But tonight she had an
important message which confirmed my suspicions: Ashley may very well be on her
deathbed.
She has but one
last seemingly vain request. Yet when I hear it, I understand her intention
right away, and it is far from selfish. I also understand why her mother has
appeared before me: To have me divulge the secret of how I was created.
I do happen to
know. It was one of the first things I asked my creator.
“It will not be
her,” I warn. “For the same reason that I am not my sister. But it will carry
on her legacy when she is gone.”
She nods in
understanding and leaves again, having written everything I explained down in
meticulous detail.
To my grief,
Ashley succumbs before she has the chance to say goodbye to me. I spend weeks
in despondency. My torch remains unlit. It feels as if the entire city is
grieving alongside me.
But tonight her
mother has come to visit me again, and she has not come alone. Many workers
drape an enormous cloth over me. Tie me down. Wrap something around my waist—a
cable attached to a crane’s hoist, I believe, but I cannot see. It is a
disconcerting experience, though I trust that they have good intentions.
I am being
transported somewhere. Not to the harbor, but deeper into the city. How
exciting! I have never been this far in.
Eventually we
stop, and I am placed back upright. The ropes and cloth are removed and I see
that I am standing at the top of a number of steps, overlooking a large plaza
lined with trees.
Faith is standing
at the bottom of the steps, looking up at me. She looks even smaller from this
vantage point. “There, that will be all. Thank you for your hard work, you may
go,” she tells the workers, and they seem pleased to head home. Soon enough it
is just us.
Next, she
addresses me directly. “Behind you is city hall,” she says. “This is to be your
new home for the foreseeable future. For the both of you.”
The both of us?
Then that means…
“You must be
Athena. Nice to meet you… or to see you again, I guess,” a familiar cheerful
voice to my right says.
I want to look,
but is it safe? Is anybody watching?
“Go on,” the woman
at the bottom of the steps reassures me.
I turn my head to
the right. I am indeed standing in front of a building that reminds me a little
of the temples back in Greece. It is just slightly taller than I am. So this is
where the city’s government resides.
But that is not
what catches my attention most. I am standing to the left-hand side of the
building’s entrance, and over to the right, there is another statue…
“Hey, glad you
made it,” the statue with Ashley’s face says to me.
I smile wider than
I ever have. “I thought I’d never see you again,” I say.
She is just half a
head taller than me. It is the first time in my life that I have had to look up
at someone. She is truly gorgeous, fashioned from polished dark metal for her
body, with lighter tones for the dress she has been immortalized in. Truly, she
has come so far since I first met her.
I am overcome with
emotion. If I had tears to spill…
She opens her arms
invitingly and I happily embrace her. For once I do not have to fear crushing
her. For once I get to experience the joy of being embraced back. She is here,
and I never have to be alone again.
“I never imagined the
city council would approve this,” I say, still burying my face into her
shoulder.
“They almost
didn’t,” Faith interjects. I had almost forgotten that she is still here. “I
had to pull every string I had to get enough people on board, and even then…
Making a statue of this scale is just taboo these days unless it’s of Jesus or
something. But they made an exception since she’s come to mean so much to this
city, and there was enough popular support for it. Her memory means something
to a lot of folks.”
Ashley flashes a
coy smile. “Thanks, mom. Love you.”
The human lady
sighs wryly. “I still don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about all this, but
I’m glad I could make my little girl happy one more time… In any case, it’s
late, so I’m going to get some sleep now. You girls be back in position before
the sun rises, got that?”
“Yes, mom,” Ashley
and I say in unison.
So begins our new
life. This Ashley—She decided to stick with that name—does not have the memories
of her human counterpart, but she has the same personality, and I am happy to
fill in the blanks for her when we get to talk at night. During the day we
silently watch all the little humans come and go. There are so many more than I
ever saw at my old spot.
“You can hear so
many things just standing here and eavesdropping,” she remarks to me one night.
“It makes me glad that at least some people are still fighting for what’s right…
Though, it’s ironic that my reward for my activism is to become a piece of art
myself and passively watch it all happen for the rest of time.” She giggles. “It’s
almost funny when you think of it that way.”
I smile as well. “I
suppose it is. But such is the way for our kind.”
“Maybe for you,
since you’re so boring, Athena,” she teases. “But just so you know, if I hear
something big going down and I’m the only one who can jump in, I’m doing it.
Consequences be damned. You watch me.”
“Don’t,” I warn. “You’ll
cause a panic.”
“Maybe I should! Sometimes
shaking things up is a good thing.”
“Not that kind of
shaking things up. Trust me.”
“’Trust me,’ as if
you would know. You’ve been alive for like three thousand years and you never even
dared to say ‘boo’ to someone.”
“Hey, I’m not that
old!”
“Aren’t you always going on about how time means nothing to us? So what if I’m
off by a few hundred years?”
“Well—Well, that
just means that age doesn’t matter, so don’t bring it up!”
“Oh ho, struck a
nerve. And here I thought you didn't have any. But sure. That means you’re not the older sister, since age doesn’t
matter, hmm? But I’m the big sister, since I’m taller!”
“That’s not how it
works.”
“Then how does it
work, oh Goddess of Wisdom?”
“For the last time—”
“That’s not who
you are, I know!”
“Hmph! Then stop teasing
me about it, will you?!”
Ashley has a laughing
fit, leaning against one of the pillars of the city hall’s façade. It is a good
thing it is quite sturdy.
“What’s so amusing?”
I demand to know.
“The look on your
face, of course!”
She continues
giggling incessantly. It’s endearing. Despite myself, I smile and begin
laughing too.
If anyone sees us
like this, we are in a lot of trouble—but I cannot find it in myself to worry
about that. So long as we’re together, I am so happy. And the whole world can
see it for all I care.
End Notes:
If I'm being totally honest, I'm not confident about this chapter. Feel like it's kind of unfocused and long-winded, with not enough going on to justify it. But if you're still reading, then I must've done something right!
I would be much obliged to receive any feedback you might have, so don't be shy about leaving a comment! Hope to see you next chapter, which will be titled Corporate Snake. Can you guess what that means?
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.